Already Over
by Sasukeluva 4eva
Summary: Captured by Orochimaru. Forced to heal his arms. Sharing a room with the man she used to be in love with. What will Haruno Sakura do to escape this fate... or will feelings long since buried resurface along with the painful memories tried to be forgotten?
1. The Kidnapping

Summary**:  
**_  
'Oh... fuck me... This has got to some sick, twisted joke right? How is it possible that I have been kidnapped by Orochimaru, the sick fuck, and forced to heal his arms so that he can start another attempt at destroying my village? Oh, and did I happen to mention the fact that I have been forced to share the same quarters as a certain, very sexy, Uchiha Sasuke, whom is watching my every move like a freakin' hawk? No? Well, that too. What the fuck have I gotten myself into?!'  
_**  
Sakura Haruno, number one medic-nin next to Tsunade in Konohagakure, has been kidnapped whilst on an S-ranked mission involving the members of the Akatsuki, no one being the wiser to her whereabouts; when she is forced to kneel and bow down to the Snake Sannin himself, all she can do is comply—so when a buried relic of her past rocks up to make sure she does nothing out of the ordinary, what will she do? Her feelings have been completely driven away from him, but how will sharing the same room affect that resolution? And with him watching her every move, will it even be humanly possible to escape? Or will she not want to after she finds herself feeling things she hasn't in a very long time...?**

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**Author/Creator of this story: Moi, Sasukeluva 4eva!**

**Concept basis: Kishimoto Masashi-sensei's 'NARUTO'**

**Disclaimer: IDNON, BIDHTOS! So there ya have it!**

**a/n: New story. You get the drift; based on a song that I absolutely adore called  
**_'Already Over'_** by **Red**. Please give it a go. Arigato gozaimasu! ^.-**

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**Sasuke x Sakura Lemon Fanfic**

_**Already Over**_

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Chapter 1

The Kidnapping

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The distant sound of water dripping to their untimely end was something that was prominent in the unconscious kunoichi; that, and the stagnant cold of the solid, uncomfortable ground upon which she was resting—more accurately put, where she lay against her will. Whatever will an unconscious girl had, that is. It seemed that the temperature was dropping with every laboured breath the pink haired med-nin took, her shaky breaths producing small, thin clouds of steam, steam from the heat of her mouth hitting the freezing air of the surrounding room; she was sure, although not quite fully alert, that she had been locked away in a storage room, where food was kept to help it maintain its' freshness—why would any sane person keep a prisoner in a fucking _freezer_?

Oh, right, a prisoner is a prisoner, not another human being like everyone else; if this was a punishment of some sort, than they had chosen right—being kept in a sub-thermal room with no means of heating up was indeed a sick, sadistic means of torture, one that they should be commending themselves for. The young woman had never had a high threshold to the wintry cold of any source of fake winter; wasn't the overly chilly season enough for them? Obviously not. Flinching, the woman allowed her frost-laden eyelashes to flutter open, thankful that the cold hadn't completely glued them together with ice, and analysed her situation; she had been right.

She _was _in a storage facility, boxes stacked high with what appeared to be frozen meats and vegetables—it must have been the only way they could keep their food without it expiring; and there she was thinking that the shinobi of Sound were cannibalistic ghouls that would eat anything and everything that had a source of nutritional value, or plainly anything with skin left on it. That thought made the rosette want to throw up whatever contents were left in her stomach; it was a tempting solution, but she doubted that she could live with the smell for very long—that is, if she even managed to live through this unjustified imprisonment, which was highly unlikely due to the fact that her skin had started to gain a bluish tinge to it; the beginnings of frostbite were starting to set in, making its presence known.

A slight shiver ran up the pinkette's spine, the cold starting to make her feel lethargic, heavily fatigued, as if she had been injected with a drug that was slowly but surely gaining the upper hand on her, slowly dragging her into a peaceful slumber that invited no interruption, no means of ever again waking up; in a poetic sense it was the ideal way in which one should die—free of pain, simply.... sleeping. Stuck in an eternal slumber, never to see the light of day again; only in ones dreams could that be a feasible reality—heaven was sure to be more pleasant than this ice-packed refrigerator, that was a given.

Her entire body had succumbed to the cold, gone numb, losing all feeling, except for the barely there pinpricks of heat that stabbed at her worn, blue flesh like tiny icicles, knives of steel, becoming an annoying nuisance to the rosette's final moments; she was trying to go peacefully, yet the persistent inklings of hot pain kept the woman conscious, alert—it was keeping her alive, holding her by a thread that was so close to forever snapping in two, yet not quite there. With her medic's training, she diagnosed her symptoms, prognosis all too clear; she was in the final stages of uncontrolled hyperthermia, otherwise known as the 'cold injury stage', and would soon gradually drift off into a comatose state, rendering her a corpse—she would die.

What a way for the apprentice of one of the three legendary Sannin to go; dying in a freezer, rather than as a true shinobi would—in the line of duty. But again came the pain aspect of things; this was probably the most she could ever ask of Kami, to be allowed to die in His sanctuary, to know that He would embrace her as she made her ascent into the heavens'—when it was put like that, it almost sounded rather appealing.

Her last breaths were drawing to a close, death just around the corner; just like that, within the expanse of a millisecond, she was gone, the life sucked from her as she drew in her final inhalation of air, the last taste of air her lungs would ever feel—she had died.

* * *

The ringing of a distant bell became more prominent, washing over her until it was a loud pulsation, vibrating in her inner being, reverberating within her soul until it had become unbearably loud; the foreshadows of what appeared to be... people?... stood in front of a blazing white light, hands outstretched to her—one in particular caused tears to spring forth in the young woman's eyes. Silver, spiked up hair, usual lazy stance, mask covering his face even in the afterlife, onyx eyes crinkled into a warm welcoming smile, porno book in hand; Kakashi-sensei.

He was smiling behind his mask, his spare hand (the one that wasn't holding the Icha Icha Paradise book) extended for her to take, never faltering even as she immediately reached out to take it; his words were curt, but they said it all. "Welcome home, Sakura."

And at home she felt.

A sharp jolt in her conscience caused her to reflexively snap her hand back, just as she had been about to take his—Kakashi looked taken aback, clearly not expecting this reaction, but immediately understanding why this was happening.

A sad smile clearly reflected in his brilliant obsidian orbs told Sakura everything that she needed to know.

"It looks like it isn't your time yet, Sakura; I suppose this is goodbye... for now..."

And with that, she felt herself being tugged backwards, the light, her sensei, now far out of her reach, and as much as she screamed and protested, no sound exited her lips; the ringing of the bells ceased—she was alive. Again.

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"—stupid mistake! You were supposed to be watching her progress!"

"—sama will not be pleased—"

"—should I care—"

"—profoundly sorry if the opposite incident had occurred—"

"—be lucky that Orochimaru-sama had come to you when he did—"

"—this my fault?! The girl was already—"

"—saved her so that she could fulfil her new duty—"

"—Orochimaru-sama's new 'plaything'—"

"—poor thing... what a fate for one so young—"

"Ah! I think she's regaining consciousness!"

Sakura stirred, vaguely hearing the scratchy bits and pieces of conversation completely lost to her and out of her reach; some keywords had helped her piece together whom exactly had kidnapped her, and whom was responsible for her being locked in a fucking freezer on the verge of a beautiful death where she could finally be with the loved ones that the man responsible for everything that had happened to her thus far had slaughtered without mercy—he would have been better off letting her die, because then at least he didn't have to worry about her seeking retribution for all those whom she had held dear to her deaths'.

Now she couldn't wait to get her hands on the slimy snake-bastard son of a bitch and—

"Dear, look! She's awake! Hello, sweetheart, how are you feeling?" Sakura raised her dull green orbs to meet those of a kindly old woman, concern for the rosette dripping off of her in puddles; it brought some meaningful comfort, but not a hell of a lot. It meant one thing; she was alive, and had to endure more heart-wrenching suffering, all on that man's part, mochiron. Without any formal reply, the woman assumed naturally that Sakura was afraid; not far off, seeing as she _was_ in Orochimaru's base. Keyword there being _Orochimaru's_.

"Now don't be scared dear, no one's going to hurt you; I'm Mitsuko, and I'll be the one nursing you back to health, as well as catering to your every need from here on out. Do you have any idea where you are?"

"In that bastard Orochimaru's base!" Sakura spat, though it came off as more of a croak, seeing as her throat was still readjusting to the change in temperature, and from the disuse since she had 'died' and come back to life; it was swollen and raspy, clogged with a build up of sinus fluid that desperately needed to be excreted before she was at risk of needing a tracheotomy to clear her windpipe—like hell she would allow any of these slime-balls to touch her anyways.

She knew full well about the lack of women in Otogakure, and was well aware of what the men did to any that they managed to capture whilst on patrol or missions; rape and torture were the least of their problems—pack of horny fucking fiends!

"Orochimaru-sama saved your life." The elderly woman exclaimed patiently, thinking that time would adjust the pinkette's way of thinking; all it did was make her hot temper worse.

"What, by locking me in a fucking freezer and leaving me to die?! Oh, well I sincerely thank him for that experience, but now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go back home and hang myself; you were better off letting me die than leaving me alive to suffer!" Sakura hissed angrily as she clambered up, throwing the sheets off of her and throwing herself off of the large bed, stumbling with shaky legs toward the large oak door across the room; she was stopped by a pair of warm, wrinkled hands. Turning, she saw none other than the same old brainwashed hag that had had the gumption to proclaim that her families' murderer was actually her saviour; what she wouldn't give to strangle the woman to death, but unfortunately for her, she was too spent to do anything. _Yet_.

"Wait. You cannot go outside yet; Orochimaru-sama has to send summons for you before you can leave, and he wants you at the highest possible standard when you do finally meet with him. So please, rest." She smiled, but it did not touch her faded hazel eyes, which seemed hazy and dull, almost like—yes, she was being manipulated, brainwashed, by the fucked up paedophile. Sakura had a sudden wave of pity for the woman wash over her as she looked deeply into the short, plump obaa-sama's orbs, crinkled up in what appeared to be one of Sai's tragic attempts at a smile; heh, maybe they were distant relatives or—the stabbing pain returned to eat away at Sakura's heart like acid, causing her to clench her chest painfully.

It was then that she realised her state of undress; no, that was an understatement—all the pink haired kunoichi had on was a pair of white and pink lacy panties that looked as if they belonged in a lingerie shop rather than on her. But she definitely had the figure for it, that was for sure... But that rose another valid point; _where the fuck was her clothing?!_ Her eyes widened in alarm as she remembered that there had been distinctly _male_ voices in the room that she had been locked into, and that she had gone from wearing clothing to being without them... so in that expanse of however long she was out for her clothing had been removed; what if those damned fucking perverts had—?!

Sakura's hand flew down to her groin, checking for any signs of unwanted violation; being a virgin in this type of environment was probably one of the most dangerous and lethal situations she could have ever possibly been in—sure, she had been on several S-ranked missions that involved seduction as one of the key objectives in order to extract and obtain information, but nothing had prepared her for the distinct possibility of losing her maidenhood in this sort of environment. Fuck, nothing had prepared her for being in _this_ sort of environment altogether!

Noticing her distress, the woman calmly stated (this was fucking serious! What if she had lost her virginity?! Do the ninja of Sound even wear protection—scratch that, they aren't nearly educated enough to even know what a condom _is_!) the very fact that the rosette had been so desperate to hear. "You have nothing to fear, dear; your virginity is very much intact. I was the one who removed your coverage; there was blood on it, and several tears, so I was just washing and mending them. They should be back to you within the hour, I assure you, so rest easy."

Her voice was blank, monotonous, devoid of all emotions that connected her to the world surrounding; she was a lot like Sai in many ways, except she kind of resembled that of a puppet—her strings were being pulled to do the every whimsical demand that its ventriloquist desired, manoeuvring her into a steady rhythm of repetitive motions that soon had her feelings consumed into a tight cacoon that wouldn't likely reopen any day soon.

She was so enwrapped under Orochimaru's influence that she couldn't see the world for what it really was, for what _he_ was; she was his hopeless servant, a marionette that could be played over and over again, and the truly tragic fact about this was that she would always absorb it and continue to serve the very man that was only using her for his own personal gain—he did not care for what became of her. He cared for no one but himself, and at the end of the day, he was still the same conceited old fool that had degraded whatever dignity he had had left in order to sustain his 'youthful' appearance; that was all he would ever be, and no amount of love and dedication could change that—he was evil to the core, the epitome of it, and would never alter to another's demands.

He was the type of man to tackle hurdles head to head, destroying anything remotely balanced and stable just for the sheer pleasure of watching everything tumble, crumble to the ground; it made him feel powerful watching those weaker than himself suffer—he was like a leech, a parasite. He fed off of other people's pain, thrived on it, and when he was done, he'd move on to the next victim; it was a continuous cycle of slaughter and bloodshed, and not a tinge of remorse or mercy would ever paint his judgement—he acted on a predatory lust that could not be satiated by normal means; he was attracted to blood, to screams of agony.

It aroused him in a disgusting sort of way; Sakura knew this, because she had seen it so many times with her own eyes—he had never cared for another human being in his entire existence, and it would continue to be that way; the path of a sociopath was what was destined to him, his fate one that rivalled that of a psychopaths. That was what he was to succumb to in the very near future; his sanity had already been questioned time and time again, but Sakura was more than aware that it wasn't a negative response to the deaths of his parents—no, it was sheerly within his nature to be this way.

To be a cold, heartless killer that kidnapped certain young boys' in order to obtain their bodies' and use them as future 'vessels' for himself; for _his_ youth. He was a selfish, needy bastard that leeched onto any and all future hopes of him maintaining 'immortality'; really, what a ridiculous concept! There wasn't a thing such as an eternal life without aging—why couldn't he age, live and die like every other human being in the planet?! Oh, right, because he is higher than Kami, or so he'd like to think.

"Miss? Are you alright? You spaced out for a moment there. Is there something bothering you?" Sakura just stared. She could not believe how badly this woman was under that man's influence! If she had been in her position, she would have hightailed it out of there without ever looking back, yet this baa-chan... why was she so... _dedicated_ to a man like _that_?!

"Tell me... why are you so loyal to a man like Orochimaru?" Sakura asked, standing unabashedly nude even though there was an elderly man in the corner of the room; funny, she hadn't even noticed him...

"Because he gave me my reason to live again." The elderly woman said complacently, a warm smile that somehow still managed to evade her sombre, glassy eyes plastering itself to her face—it made Sakura so mad that such a sweet woman was under the control of a slime-bag like that; what she said next though caused the rosette's blood to run thin, turning into the ice that had previously enveloped her prior to her move to wherever she was now.

"He revived my husband when he had died twenty years ago; I could never have thanked him enough, so I offered my services as payment for what he provided me with—he gave me back my purpose in life, the only reason I kept breathing. I had fully planned on dying with him, so that we could be together in the afterlife, but Orochimaru-sama brought him back to me; for that alone, I am eternally grateful and forever in his debt—I will work here till the day my heart stops beating, because I know that if I can at least fulfil and satisfy my master's demands, then I can die happy because I know that what I am doing now is truly worth it."

Sakura processed the elderly woman's words, thinking back to a past conversation that she had had with Naruto three years prior, just after he had arrived back in the village.

* * *

_Flashback_

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_

"_Ne, Sakura-chan..."  
_

_"Hm? Nandayo, Naruto?"  
_

_"What is it to truly live?"  
_

_"Huh? Why are you asking me that? Like I would know!"  
_

_"Do you... have... someone that's precious to you...?"  
_

_"Well duh, baka! Whataya think? Everyone in this village is a part of me so—"  
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_"That's not what I mean."  
_

_"H-Huh? T-Then what are you getting at...?"  
_

_"Is there anyone out there that you are willing to sacrifice __**everything**__ for in order to protect?"  
_

_"Are you __**seriously**__ asking me that, teinousha? 'Cause that is the __**stupidest**__ thing I've ever—"  
_

_"It isn't stupid! Haku said that if you have something that is __**truly**__ precious to you, that you should protect it with everything you've got, and be willing to sacrifice __**everything**__ for them; they are your __**purpose**__ in life, the only thing that gives your existence any __**meaning**__ or __**value**__! So don't call Haku stupid for believing in something so profound that it __**hurt**__ him! Don't call him stupid because he lost everything, became a broken tool with no other purpose in life except to rot and die like a dog on the street because he found happiness in someone who wasn't entirely __**good**__; don't call him stupid because he believed in that __**tiny**__ sliver of hope that he constantly clung to in the premise that he would one day regain the privilege to __**have**__ a purpose! Don't call him stupid because he wanted it __**so**__ badly that he was willing to __**kill**__ for it; don't call him stupid because he __**gave up his life**__ to be the __**slave**__ of another who really didn't care if he lived or died! __**Don't call my dead friend stupid 'cause you don't understand his pain**__!"_

_The moonlight washed over the pair as they stood on __**that**__ bridge, the trees' leaves rustling as the wind blew a powerful gust, lifting their hair and clothing from their skin to partially expose their glistening complexions, which sprung alight when the silver beams hit them; Naruto was panting, whilst Sakura stood there, mouth agape. _

_She could not believe that he had spoken to her like that; resisting the urge to scream, in one lithe movement, she slapped him, painfully hard, across the cheek, before storming off into the night, Naruto's tears carried with the wind like raindrops until they too met their end._

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_End of Flashback_

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_

It was shocking to look back at such a painful memory, particularly since now Sakura could sort of relate to what Naruto had been trying his best to explain to her; this woman was _exactly_ like the masked boy Haku whom had unquestioningly followed _every_ order that Zabuza had done unto him—he carried it out without question and was rewarded with nothing of materialistic value.

No, all he ever wanted was the acceptance of the man whom had taken him in and raised him, just wanted the knowledge that he indeed had a purpose in life, and was living up to it the best he could, even going to the lengths of becoming a slave to an evil man such as Zabuza Momochi, the Demon of the Hidden Mist Village; he was just like this old lady, standing before her. Although the difference and distinction was already clear; Zabuza had turned out to be a good man at the end, rebelling against his countries' political beliefs because he thought they were not fit for the people, whereas Orochimaru was in a whole other league— the words 'decent' or 'pacifist' were terms that were vaguely familiar to the snake man, but could never be associated with him, not in this lifetime nor the next.

He was plainly evil, nothing to sugar-coat his cruelty, nothing underneath that; he was born that way, and would die that way—Sakura would make sure of it.

"Oh dear, look at the time, we need to get you dressed; you must be tired after everything that has happened today—rest will prove to be somewhat of a luxury around here, so you'll need plenty of it!" Mitsuko baa-chan exclaimed in faux joviality, rushing out of the room without a second glance at Sakura; how could the woman be so trustworthy of a complete and utter stranger—an enemy to her master no less?

The rosette figured she would never know, so she settled for turning around to face the man who was looking more and more like he was dead by the second—though at one point he _had_ been, but again, not relevant. Sakura cautiously approached, being careful not to startle, alarm or infuriate the oddly placid man whom sat stiffly in a comfy looking armchair (resembling that of a loveseat, but the pinkette wasn't going to let her mind venture as to what had previously happened in that very chair) that was positioned in the darkest corner of the spacious room; after seeing Chiyo obaa-sama in action, it was safe to assume that this man could be a lot more dangerous than he let on. Once she stood about a foot away, arms wrapped around her voluptuous chest, she confronted him, eyes never leaving his frame.

"Oji-sama... why are you here when you could be elsewhere in the world? What is your inclination to Orochimaru?" At first Sakura really thought that he was dead, but just as she was about to check for a pulse, he spoke, voice measured but gravelly, as if he hadn't spoken in many years.

"I am here because my wife is; wherever she goes I go—she is my purpose, my love, and I will never leave her, not for any outside pleasure that you speak of so callously. You are too young to grasp the meaning of eternal loyalty to one whom provides you with a means to salvation, gives you the purpose that all humans require in order to survive; it is something that comes with age, not natural understanding and wisdom—the world has never worked this way. In order to understand what I say, you must first gather experience, feel what no other has, before you can fully comprehend the meaning of what it is to be eternally grateful, to learn to love not for one's exterior aesthetics, but for everything that they are, on the inside; those flaws that are not easily seen or accepted by others is what one whom has the true capability to love can adapt to, therefore allowing them to feel free, no matter where they end up—I can do this in a measured way because if my wife is here, then nothing is out of my reach.

I love her more than life itself, and although I have already died once, my body remains here on this earth, soul intact, solely for her; for what would be my purpose if I did not have her? Why would I bother having this meaningless existence if I could not live with the one I love, share my experiences with them? It would be next to nothing, child; this is what it truly means to live—if you have something that you are willing to protect with everything you have got, would go to the ends of the world and back for them, then you can truly understand what it is to live, and why I do so in this environment.

You may not understand, but Orochimaru-sama saved her from a death filled with nothing but despair and sorrow; I could not live with myself if she were to remain stuck between that void to heaven, heart in tatters because of my death—suicide tends to leave many souls haunting this land, or simply leaves them in suspended animation. I did not want this for her, but I could do nothing; then came Orochimaru-sama. He saved her soul, her broken heart, and gave her a purpose to relive her life with no regrets; that is what I am truly thankful for, and if I must live here until my end comes, then that is what I shall do. Simply because he was the silver-lining that became my wife's salvation, helped her to live again. That is why I stay here, child. That is my reason for living."

Sakura took several moments to absorb this information; Naruto had been right—to live, you had to have something truly precious to you, that you were willing to sacrifice everything and anything for. Oji-sama was wrong about one thing though; those born with an understanding of true sorrow and anguish, whom had no purpose, could identify, were wise enough to grasp the concept—Naruto and Haku had been two of several, Gaara-sama also in the mix.

They knew this pain all too well, of not having a purpose, but had all eventually found one; as Oji-sama had said, in order to truly live a meaningful life, one needed a purpose to achieve it—Sakura thought she finally understood what Naruto had been trying to tell her. A small smile graced her plush pink lips as she stood there, a comfortable silence engulfing the pair; after a few moments to allow the pinkette to compose herself, she whispered a quiet 'Arigato gozaimasu, oji-sama', to which he did not fail to notice.

A loud _'thud!'_ resounded in the room, causing the rosette to jump, her breasts moving along with her (she ignored the calculating way in which the old man stared); Mitsuko was back, carrying in a rather large pile of clothing, hers being on the top of the stack.

"Ah! Seiji darling, is everything alright?" Ah, so that was the old perverts name...

"Hai, everything is fine dear." Smiling, Mitsuko approached Sakura with the clothing, before carefully handing her the high pile. What Sakura saw made her stomach churn.

"Only a prostitute would wear something as god-awful as this!" To prove her point, Sakura picked up the first 'dress' on the pile, which in itself had no right to be called one; it barely covered anything! Her breasts would have fallen out of the skimpy contraption, which had only enough material to cover most of her barest necessities. Key words being _most of_. "Dear, I apologise, but this is what was given to me by Orochimaru-sama's personal servant," _Kabuto_, the four-eyed dickless prick, wait till she got her hands on him— "And he said that this was all that they had; we don't have many female guests here, you see."

_Guests_? More like tortured victims/sex slaves; rape them anywhere they could find a hole, cut and stab them, tie them up... sick, sadistic bastards! Sakura hoped they all _burned_ in the fiery pits of hell for their sins! The rosette let out a weary sigh, before walking into the large bathroom with her usual fighting uniform; she would not let her reputation as a Konoha shinobi be tarnished by resigning to the sluttiest things she had ever seen in her life (who designed that shit?!), no siree. Once she had dressed appropriately, she exited the tiled death-trap (there were freakin' paper bombs everywhere!), and walked to where Mitsuko stood, seemingly expectant.

Fuck did she hate what she heard next.

"Orochimaru-sama has summoned you to an assembly in his quarters; please make haste." Bowing, she opened the door, where two Sound guards stood, blank faced and stoic as they waited for the rosette to accompany them to their 'Lord'; she reluctantly complied, hoping that she could somehow crawl out of this mess that she still had no idea how she had gotten into—the walk down the dark, dank, candlelit hallways was almost unbearable, the only sound heard being the clacking of her high-heels on the stone-tile mosaic flooring.

It was only when they finally came to a stop at the creepiest twin doors Sakura had ever laid eyes on (they had freakin' snakes all over the place!) that Sakura realised the seriousness of her situation; as the doors slid open, the rosette realised she was walking into the jaws of a shark—she was in the den of the snake.

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**a/n: End of chapter one! Hope it was okay! ^.-  
I will explain one thing to you now; the chapters may become a little confusing in future, as I plan to mix in some of the past events **_**before**_** Orochimaru captured her, and everything that lead up to that moment, including the death of Kakashi (which mind you was unexpected and heartbreaking for me as the author, dattebayo! T-T). Please bear with me, and I hope you liked this story so far!  
**

**Please review and you get a special mention, as well as a truckload of pocky! XD  
**

**Sankyuu!**

***-Sasukeluva 4eva out-***

**Ja ne!**


	2. The Meeting

**a/n: Here's chapter two! I planned on having this one and the next as the 'present time' chapters, before we take a trip back in time to see how things all unfolded, at a gradual pace of course! ^.-  
This chapter is dedicated to ****xhyperanimefreakx****, ****Ashlee-blondie****, ****Moonwaterpetal**** and ****a-lost-broken-soul**** for their awesome reviews; sankyuu guys! XD  
Well here we go; enjoy.**

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**Author/Creator of this story: Moi, Sasukeluva 4eva!**

**Concept basis: Kishimoto Masashi-sensei's 'NARUTO'**

**Disclaimer: IDNON, BIDHTOS! So there ya have it!**

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Chapter 2

The Meeting

* * *

Sakura could barely contain her rage; that sick bastard was mocking her, chuckling as if he knew something that she didn't—what the rosette wouldn't have given to have just reached down his throat and ripped that endless fucking tongue of his right out from his skull... and wherever else it resided from.

The vein that protruded from her forehead thickened as the man in question lazily threw his left leg over the arm of his stone 'throne', chin resting on his right hand in a bored fashion; the thing that gave away his actual mood, however, was the gluttonous smirk that he had plastered to his thin, gauntly pale ivory lips—the pinkette would've sworn in another day and time that he was dead judging by his unusually bland complexion; not that she gave a shit anyways.

He'd be dead within the next few seconds, rest assured.

As if reading her movements before she had even decided upon them, the snake man simply feigned an indifferent attitude (managing to sound more amused than anything else at her bold attempt at slaughtering him), raising his left hand to gesticulate his point more avidly, caramel eyes boring into her emerald ones as he hissed smoothly, "I wouldn't try it if I were you; if you hadn't noticed, this meeting of ours is not going unattended by my guards—heh, that, and you couldn't lay a finger on me anyway."

In one lithe movement, Sakura was affront the man, fist raised to strike; that is, until a certain white-haired, four-eyed freak blocked her attack, his right fist locked in a painfully tight grip around hers; the rosette had to bite back the slight twinge of pain his hold had on her—Kabuto's body was the perfect shield for that sick bastard behind him, covering his entire frame and protecting it from any harm, his body slightly twisted on an angle so that he had his left hand resting on the arm of the throne where Orochimaru's right elbow was bent upon.

At first the white-haired traitor wore a smug expression, as he was easily holding Sakura's fist in his, but it quickly fell as she charged chakra through it, allowing her to easily overpower the man defending the one in which she intended to kill; it was her right, her retribution for what he had done—without thinking, Sakura allowed her anger to get the better of her, and charged a lethal amount of her chakra into her fist, breaking Kabuto's punishing hold and sending it flying toward Orochimaru's face.

Her chakra-fuelled punch collided with the back of the stone throne, the rock tearing apart and exploding into millions of thick shards of debris and rubble, the throne no more; it had been reduced to a pile of fragmented dust, the remains, skeleton, of a former dais—but no Orochimaru. Sakura turned to the sound of clapping, his repulsive chuckling sending waves of hot fury down the pinkette's spine as she turned to face the highly amused snake Sannin, whose eyes were alight with curiosity; it made her feel sick to watch him assess her with those slimy, snake-like eyes of his, which looked as if he were stripping her down with just them alone—scratch that, he probably _was_ creating a mental image of her naked, amongst other things. The urge to throw up had never more frequently crossed her mind than it had in that instant.

"Heheheheheheheh, you truly are quite an amazing creature, little blossom; such ferocity, raw strength—dare I say that you have become quite the kunoichi, even putting your sensei to shame. Tsunade did quite a good job training you; not only do you possess her monstrous temper and physical attributes, but you also have a outer beauty that far supersedes her own—all of this will become a much sought out possession to have in ones' armoury."

The way Orochimaru said his little 'false flattery' speech made Sakura want to tear him limb from painful fucking limb, but unfortunately for her, everyone in the room was on guard, prepared for another one of her now infamous tirades, weapons fixed on her as if they were naturally supposed to be on that angle; if she didn't find a way to get out of this soon, then the only other means she would ever even contemplate would be leaving in a wooden box—death was her last resort at escape.

But right now, compared to being in the presence of the man whom disgusted her more than anyone else could have ever possibly dreamed, death was definitely the most preferred option; why the fuck would anyone want to be in this man's very presence for even a moment? They would either have to be completely insane, indifferent to his repulsive mannerisms, or ideally both, which was a thought that Sakura took some comfort in; at least she was positive that she wasn't mentally incapacitated. _Yet_.

"Cut the cheap flattery shit out you bastard and tell me why I'm here!" The rosette spat venomously as Orochimaru's caramel-yellow eyes glowed in the darkness that the shadows produced, a dark promise of something sinister and plain evil buried in their amber pits as he let his gaze fall onto her tense frame; his long black hair was draped over his shoulders so that it hung midway between his scapula and back, shining in the afterglow of the candlelit room so that it made him seem more reptile-like with every flicker of orange that lit up his pasty complexion—he was indeed the vision of a basilisk, that was one thing that the pinkette was sure of.

His face was amused once again, smug that he had all of the information that Sakura needed to know, but was refusing to give just yet; he still wanted to finish playing with her head first.

"Heheheh, well, right now I'm not inclined to tell you that, because I still have a few things I'd like to get off my chest." Vicious rage tore its way across the rosette's face, not bothering to mask her fury toward the bastard that was denying her her right to know why she had been kidnapped and locked in a fucking freezer (yes, she was still frosty about that, pun unintentional), but she shoved it aside, knowing that getting angry wasn't likely to help her situation; it would only result in more things ending up in the same state as that of the dais she had just obliterated—not that she wouldn't have knocked this monstrosity of a base into the next millennia...

"It seems you finally understand the weighting of this... _encounter_. Now if all ends well, we can reach a—"

"I don't give a fuck what you want! I wanna know why the fuck you kidnapped me and locked me up in your fucking storage room! Either you tell me what I want to know, or else this hideout is gonna resemble that pile of fucking rubble over there, got that?!" Sakura hissed between her teeth, emerald orbs flashing with fiery, none-too-silent rage that was becoming quite the problem; a shinobi is not to show emotion in the presence of an enemy, for the pretence of appearing weak and vulnerable, but at this stage, the pinkette didn't give a shit—she wanted to smash things. Like, right now. But she held back, because she knew that even one of the three legendary Sannin would surrender to her promise of annihilating everything that they had worked so hard to achieve, simply because there would be no benefit for them from it; heh, it would definitely do wonders on Sakura's exploding temper...

"Hmph, touché; it appears we have met a stalemate, so I'll just get to the point. You have been chosen by myself to become my personal medic, whom is to attend to my every need, starting with the healing of my arms—" Orochimaru was interposed by Sakura's harsh bark of sarcastic laughter, which echoed throughout the dark den of the snake Sannin himself; he seemed less than pleased by her callous interruption, but it had been something foreseen by the reptilian sociopath, so he allowed her the moment in which she could empty her system of any sort of negativities on her part—then it would be back to bribing her abilities.

Sakura couldn't believe it; this man, after all he had said and done to the people she held dearest to her, expected her to simply bow down and bend to his every whim and demand, going as far as to _tell_, not _ask_ (not that she would have agreed either way), her to heal his arms? Who the fuck did he think he was, _Kami_ or something?! Right, we had established that fact before!

Like fucking hell she was going to allow him to use her, no matter what he offered; it would most likely be something unearthly and forbidden to the point of literal death—taking her own life would be so much more efficient, not to mention easier. She didn't have to ask him to do it for her; after all, the pinkette was a big girl, she could handle herself!

"Ha! Like fuck I'm going to heal your arms! There is absolutely _nothing_ that you could ever possibly offer me that could persuade me and my judgment otherwise, except obviously my freedom, but that isn't likely to happen, and I could always manage my own way out anyways! What makes you think that after everything that you have said and done to not only me, but my friends and loved ones, that I would simply comply to your every demand like the perfect little marionette?! Hunh?! What makes you think that after you took Sas—Sas—after you took _him_ away," Orochimaru was amused at the rosette's obvious struggle with saying his apprentice's name, but remained placid as she ranted on, "That I would simply walk over to you, shake your hand and say 'Oh well this is splendid indeed, let's work toward a better future for all!', and heal you like a mindless fucking drone?! Do you think that lowly of my intelligence? Are you mocking my capabilities as a shinobi, a _Leaf_ ninja, simply because you defected from your own village in order to seek such a foolhardy goal? What is there that a sneaky, pathetic slime-ball like you could offer me in exchange for my services? Answer me that, you sick fuck!"

Sakura hollered vehemently, eyes burning with a bloodlust that far superseded anything the snake Sannin had ever seen before in a kunoichi—and it was an attractive thing indeed. Smirking to himself, Orochimaru simply replied offhandedly, as if every fucking name he had been called had had no effect on him and his cool demeanour whatsoever, "You would be surprised as to what I can give you in return for your medical expertise, but that all depends on whether or not you're interested as to what I have to say before you—"

"How many times do I have to fucking tell you—?!"

"Don't you dare run your mouth off to Orochimaru-sama!" Kabuto spat heatedly as he charged forward, running chakra through the kunai that he had pulled from his holster and was currently weaving between his fingers, gripping the hilt with enough force to snap the metal knife in half as he dropped to the ground with lethal precision, performing a spin-kick in the vain attempt to trip the rosette over; and she would have none of that.

Sakura immediately sprung into battle-mode, jumping into the air to avoid his legs before flipping backwards, hands slicing on the rough surface of the smooth-looking marble tiles as she propelled herself backwards, the flips becoming repetitive and fast as Kabuto once again charged at her, speed and deadly meticulousness aiding him in his fight to keep the pinkette on her toes as he lashed out at her with the chakra-enhanced blade; Sakura allowed herself a brief moment to tense, before she threw her weight upwards, timing perfect as she scaled the wall with her feet, pushing off and flipping forward so that she somersaulted along the hard, cool floor, spinning on her heel just in time to meet kunai to kunai with the white-haired man, whom seemed to have completely lost his control over her snide remarks to his master (touchy much?)—there was the usual strain between the two knives, friction causing the pair to break apart, sidestepping one another, before meeting toe to toe once again, the clash between their weapons bringing sparks forth from the kinetic energy being produced; Orochimaru watched in keen pleasure, enjoying the display of raw talent that the two medic-nin were showing off, smirk never leaving his gauntly pasty face.

Kabuto managed to best Sakura with his kunai, pushing forward with enough strength to initially shock the rosette for a mere millisecond before she retaliated, rotating on the ball of her left foot as she spun to avoid the lunge he had made with said fore-mentioned blade, coming at him from the side long enough to send a powerful punch in his direction, chakra leaking from it as it made contact with the stone-carved wall behind where the original target had been standing, the wall crumbling within seconds of the hit, the sound of splitting rock crashing to the ground reverberating off of the caverns inner sanctum; the pinkette threw herself off to the side just as Kabuto emerged from under the ground, stone and debris thrown astray, his whole body tense, as he flew out of the hole with his arms raised above his head, hands charged with enough medical chakra to have killed an elephant—it was obvious that the man was serious about ending her life for all of the mediocre things she had said to his 'Lord.' Joy.

Rolling her shoulders and cracking her neck, Sakura decided that it was time to get serious too; pushing herself into an erect position, the rosette got into traditional fighting stance, her left arm held out to her opponent whilst her right remained closer to her chest, before she disappeared in a cloud of sakura petals, cloaking and concealing her chakra as she cast her genjutsu—Orochimaru was enjoying this way too much to even think for a moment the consequences of this fight, not even enough to warn his own faithful servant of the pinkette's next lethal move.

_'Tatsu, Mi, Tori, Ushi, Inu, Tora, Ne, Hatsuji, Ne, Tatsu! Kareta haru hasu; chissokushi!'_

With the hand seals completed, Sakura allowed her genjutsu to take precedence over Kabuto's senses, rendering him immobile to the rosette's next move.

* * *

_  
_Kabuto had this sudden sense of calm wash over him, as if there was no fight, had been none, to begin with; he was simply... relaxed. A warm, tingling sensation flooded his body, loosening his muscles and bringing him into further tranquillity and peace; or so he thought.

* * *

The vibrant green vines loosely wound their way up their victim's body, making sure to have closed off all means of breaking free, before they allowed the piece de resistance to make its appearance; several large, white flowers sprouted from the buds that had once been there, opening so that their fragrance could be inhaled by the unsuspecting prey—with that, the true affects of the jutsu were to be realised.

* * *

An exotic scent unfamiliar to the right hand man of Orochimaru made its way to his nostrils, entering his system with no trouble or hesitation; Kabuto couldn't help but wonder what medical remedies the pollen could concoct—_'Thump thump! Thump thump! Thump thump!'_ His heartbeat had become erratic, irregular, and his breathing was becoming laboured, arduous; what was this?! How could this have—?!

"Arrrrrggghhhhhcckk!" Kabuto choked as the vines wilted and died, strangling his every major muscle that needed oxygen in order to function correctly with more strength than a dead plant should normally have, rendering him defenceless; the liana wrapped itself securely around his neck, grip tightening until his face purpled from the lack of air his brain was supposed to be receiving, a large, withered lotus sprouting from the climber until it was large enough to have been able to eat a human with no trouble—Kabuto's eyes bulged as the plant went through photosynthesis in front of his eyes, tearing apart to reveal rows upon rows of sharp, vicious fangs, teeth pointed to that of a sharks.

With no air, Kabuto could no longer let out a scream of terror as the plant snapped forward, taking his head into its mouth just as the vines around him turned to steel, sharp, senbon-like thorns cutting through him like skewers to meat, the carnivorous lotus flower carving his head off in one clean sweep.

* * *

Kabuto stumbled forward, released from the genjutsu that had just overtaken his conscience, but was not nimble enough to evade Sakura's chakra-fuelled punch, the loud, satisfying _'crunch!'_ of his jaw snapping into several pieces echoing in the deathly silent room; he was sent flying toward where his master stood, an unreadable expression plastered to his features as his hands swiftly snapped out and caught the barely conscious 'pet', bringing him to a rest against his chest before carefully setting him down on the ground; he couldn't afford to lose one of his most trusted companions, no matter how badly they had failed him—not that Kabuto had tested his full capabilities on the pink haired vixen, that was for sure.

She would most likely be dead had Kabuto _really_ intended on going the extra mile...

Smiling contemptuously, Orochimaru stepped forward, closing in on the rosette like a lion to a gazelle; for an instant she seemed vaguely petrified with the concept of fighting the strongest of the legendary Sannin, but she squashed that down instantaneously as she got into proper fighting stance—Orochimaru chuckled at her action, before raising his gaze momentarily to the eyes above that were watching from the podiums stationed throughout the whole expanse of the room.

They indeed were a sight to behold; they were entranced by the vicious display of cunning precision that the female ninja had accomplished, and now it was not only her beauty that they could admire, but her strength and mental prowess as well—but what they were most keen on seeing was this young woman take on the 'Otokage' of Otogakure; the Village Hidden in Sound. This was sure to be an interesting fight, one with lots of promise...

* * *

Laboured pants and the snapping of branches and twigs underfoot was all that was heard as the dilapidated mulch of the former dead leaves was kicked up into the air, tossed around in all of the confusion; black flames consumed half of the scenery, stark in contrast to the luscious green foliage that painted the upper side of the rainforest—many screams were heard rebounding off of the forest's crevices, reaching out for many miles before meeting its end where the canyons began, drowned out by the impossibly loud waves of thundering water as it too came to its own sort of end at the beginning of the mouth of a waterfall.

Many retreating ninja from Kirigakure stormed through the trees, bounding as quickly as they could to escape the fate that so many had already succumbed to; they would not die at the hands of the predator, no matter how fast they needed to go, no matter how fatigued and beyond exertion they were—as proud shinobi, they knew that their true value was to their village, and that if they died now, there would be less shinobi there to protect their homeland from any impending enemy attacks.

That was unacceptable, and if it meant to be forever vilified as the cowards that ran from danger, then so be it; it was for the sake of their home that they were retreating, it was for the sake of their loved ones that they returned back safely—it was for their own sakes to stay alive to continue to protect what was precious to them. And so they ran, continuously, away from the danger zone, away from _him_, so that they could live to see another day; but unfortunately for them, their resolve was too weak to comprehend the full capabilities of the predator.

The Kiri-nin were almost to the very edge of the first visible canyon when piercing, masculine screams were heard, from within that small handful that remained standing; turning on their heels, they were graced with the sight of crimson bloodstains painting the ground, the grass, the tress, everything was smothered in the sticky substance—the thing that kept them alive.

And there _he_ was, the predator, standing in amongst the bodies of the torn, gutted, limbless men, not a stain of the red liquid on him, eyes closed, posture relaxed, almost as if... he was _enjoying_ this, _thriving_ on the screams and bloodshed, _loving_ the way the cold, glassy eyes looked up at him in sheer terror—he truly was a coldblooded killer, in every way and form, showing no mercy, no remorse, for all of the deaths he had caused; he was the embodiment of a true shinobi, plain and simple, and all cowered in his presence. Because that was the way it was supposed to be.

Tilting his chin upwards, the marauder let his eyes flutter open, black flames rearing up behind his tall stature as he coolly met the gazes of the terrified men, crimson melded with spinning onyx transforming all the Kiri-nin saw before they were consumed by the obsidian blaze, their shrill screams echoing into the cold, relentless night.

* * *

"Huuurrrargh!" Sakura roared as she sent a powerful fist toward the snake Sannin, to which he avoided with ease; they had been going at it for a solid hour, and the rosette had yet to land a punch—Orochimaru was only playing with her, toying with her mind and twisting it into her favour... or so he was making her think. He had yet to break a sweat, yet she was obviously perspiring from the over-exertion and strain that her body and mind had endured from her previous battle; she had chewed up a rather nasty amount of chakra, and that wasn't a particularly good thing either, seeing as she was still recovering from the after effects of being imprisoned in a freezer for so long—that, and from her close-encounter with the angel of death itself.

When Sakura aimed another precise punch at the reptilian-like man, he simply caught her wrist with his right hand (Sakura stiffening at the instant shivers of disgust his touch associated with her skin brought), yanking her forward before sidestepping the woman, a simple spin-kick to the gut all that was necessary to put her in her place; she had finally met her limit, and was in some excruciating pain from the strike that his leg had caused to her stomach.

Panting thickly, the rosette glared at the man that now stood over her in a more than condescending manner, a smirk tugging at the corners of his thin lips as he eyed the kunoichi suspiciously; underestimating your enemy even in the prime of the battle was a mistake sorely regretted if ever made, one that Orochimaru was ever likely to make again, particularly since this minx was so unpredictable—being _Tsunade's_ student, it wouldn't be too hard to assume that the blonde had taught the girl various sneaky tricks to best an opposing force over the years. That was to be certain.

Sakura refused to give up; even if it killed her, she would destroy this petty man for all he was worth after everything that he had done to her and her loved ones—before she could even move, however, two strong arms held her in a headlock so painful it almost had her eyes spilling from her skull.

"How does it feel to be asphyxiated with no means of breaking loose, hunh?! Not too pleasant, is it?" Kabuto spat with contained fury as he continued to strangle Sakura from behind; this was far enough.

Raising her right hand, Sakura charged what little chakra she had left into her hand and tore his away, the audible sound of a loud _'snap!'_ being heard as a result of the fuming rosette's silent rage; Kabuto screamed as he kicked her in the back, sending her flying forward and into the arms of the very man she detested with her every fibre and cell—lifting her knee, she was about to hit him in a place where the sun really would never _want_ to shine, when he backhanded her with ease, punching her roughly in the gut before watching her sag to the ground as a result of her miscalculation.

Clutching her stomach, the pinkette once again found herself being looked down upon by the extremely unforgiving basilisk, his eyes gleaming with what appeared to be a sadistic sort of primal lust; that thought sent Sakura into oblivion, and after all that time, she found enough processed food-matter in her stomach to throw up, retching at the very thought of him—

"Well, it appears that our little blossom is more fragile than she lets on; oh dear, I suppose even being the student of Tsunade you still have the gumption to throw up all over my throne-room's floor—heh, well, what is left of it." Looking around, it became vaguely clear to Sakura that she had knocked down two of the four surrounding walls, sixteen out of twenty-eight pillars, Orochimaru's stone throne, and the miniature earthquake that had capsized and swallowed nearly half of the room; not bad, but she could have definitely have done better... like 'obliterating the base in a single punch' sort of better.

Wincing at the now forming bruise on her abdomen, Sakura allowed her gaze to drift over to the stilled figure of Kabuto, whom was now attempting to heal his newly broken wrist, as well as the various other wounds she had inflicted upon him; itai, that jaw looked kind of painful... not that she was feeling the least bit remorseful or morose for the sick prick—he brought it upon himself.

The queasiness was quelled somewhat by the motion of closing her eyes, but that only did so much; her nerves were high-strung, her mentality alert and ready for the next attack, even if she really wasn't fit to fight—she was still willing to give it another shot. Unfortunately for her, Orochimaru had no such interest in what she was willing or not willing to do; all he wanted was for her to agree to his terms, which he had yet to voice.

_'If I don't wrap this session up quickly, __**he**__ will return and find this place in tatters; that, and demanding to know how I managed to allow such a thing to occur... sometimes he can be the true epitome of indirect spite, I swear...'_

Sighing, and mentally cursing his lack of self-control over the stimulation of the recent events, the snake Sannin straightened, before helping Kabuto to his feet, seeing as he was having every bit of trouble possible; thank Kami for having the ability to transform chakra into electricity to create an electrical field and ultimately cross signals with keirakukei!

Smiling inwardly to herself, Sakura slowly pushed herself into a lazy crouch, glaring as frostily as she could at the pair across from her; they simply ignored it, and Orochimaru went straight back to where he had been before all of these... _interesting_ interruptions presented themselves.

"I have a proposition to make... a... _bargain_ of sorts..."

* * *

Black flames. Oceans of blood. Weapons long since discarded. The smell of smoke painting the horizon as the first rays of daybreak coloured the sky with shades of pink, orange, violet and black. Hair swaying casually with the wind in its own sort of dance.

Two individuals crouching down amongst the disarray of massacred, lifeless corpses. No blood stains their attire. One's eyes are closed, in rest, whilst the others' are wide and alert, scouting for any possible enemies, patrolling the planes where the sky meets the tattered, torn earth. Searching. Just... waiting.

Letting out an abhorred grunt, the tallest of the pair stood, pacing the expanse of the broken, eroded soil as they waited for their partner to make a full recovery; the effects of overusing _that_ jutsu were still very much present on the mentally and physically exhausted nukenin.

After several more moments in patient silence, the latter stood so that they were alongside their partner, ready to travel beck to base; as they walked along, the former's eyes still closed, they picked up their straw hats, put them back in their traditional places, and sauntered slowly toward the rising sun, the only indication that the former had opened his eyes being that of the black flames that came ablaze, torching the dead, withering bodies that they left in their wake, scorching them until they were nothing more than ashes being spread by the wind, the distant ringing of faded bell chimes carrying the demised to their graves.

* * *

The predator sprinted faster than the eye could see through the tough marsh of the constantly wet land, rain battering down on his completely unscathed body as he evaded the patrolling shinobi; being caught on the premises of a feudal lord would not be looked down upon too kindly, and he needed to get back to base anyways—his mission was done, he had what his 'master' had been looking for, and since he had completed the task without fail, complication or a wound of any sort, he would be able to return with pride, dignity, and whatever else there was to feel when you had just slaughtered an entire army of the toughest shinobi Kirigakure had to offer by himself; really, what more was there to feel, except for maybe martyrdom?

Unjustifiable slaughter was one thing, but still murdering a bunch of dickless cowards in the name of sport, boredom and maybe a little lust for blood for no real reason at all? When they could have returned to whatever life they had outside of their shinobi duty?

Ah, but that was the complication right there; they were in the _line of duty_, and if that meant that they were to stand in his way, then it was obvious what was to become of them—it was within one's nature to do so, especially when there was a goal that needed to be reached, attained, in order to be proclaimed a success.

So he had done what had needed to be done, all for the sake of the mission, and now he was returning back to the hideout so that he could hand over the scroll, take a shower, sleep for a while, before going out to find a decent lay; what a plan he had for himself.

Jumping stealthily from tree to tree, the predator landed upon a scene of black. Endless black smothering the ground upon which had once been what appeared to be mangled corpses. It was undeniable. The last of the onyx flames were just now burning out, joining the corpses of former ninja within the crevices of the soil, never to be seen again; but he had all the information he needed. _That man_ had been here, once upon a time.

He had been here, and the predator had missed him! Anger surged through his veins as he flew through the barren former battlefield, blood boiling as he closed in on the fading horizon, which was now seeing the first, mild hints of sunshine in a very long time.

* * *

"What _bargain_?" Sakura asked, voice tight with strain as she eyed the sick sociopath across from her stoically; the evil, manic grin that made its way to the pasty Sannin's face made Sakura's insides quench in silent fear, her eyes portraying nothing but bottomless sorrow as the words spilt from his lips.

"I can bring your beloved sensei back to life."

* * *

**a/n: End of chapter two; The meeting! Haha, cliffie! Hope this was sort of okay, self-explanatory; I promise it will get better, dattebayo! Till then, ja ne! ^.- **

***-Sasukeluva 4eva out-***

* * *

_~Japanese Definitions~_

_Tatsu= Dragon_

_Mi= Serpent/Snake_

_Tori= Bird_

_Ushi= Ox/Cow_

_Inu= Dog_

_Tora= Tiger_

_Ne= Rat_

_Hatsuji=Ram/Sheep_

_Kareta haru hasu; chissokushi= Dead Spring Lotus; Death by Suffocation_


	3. The Bargain

**a/n: Here is chapter three of 'Already Over.' My beloved Sasuke-kun makes his appearance this chapter! Enjoy, and arigato gozaimasu ne! ^.-**

* * *

**Author/Creator of this story: Moi, Sasukeluva 4eva!**

**Concept basis: Kishimoto Masashi-sensei's 'NARUTO'**

**Disclaimer: IDNON, BIDHTOS! So there ya have it!**

* * *

Chapter 3

The Bargain

* * *

Recap:

"_What __**bargain**__?" _

_Sakura asked, voice tight with strain as she eyed the sick sociopath across from her stoically; the evil, manic grin that made its way to the pasty Sannin's face made Sakura's insides quench in silent fear, her eyes portraying nothing but bottomless sorrow as the words spilt from his lips.  
_

_"I can bring your beloved sensei back to life."_

* * *

Sakura was numb.

There were no other words that could describe the dead, empty, _hollow_ feeling inside; this man, this... _serpent_... expected her to buy his false compensation, the promise that he would revive what she had lost so long ago? Who the fuck did he think he was? Sakura was not so easily persuaded, especially by the likes of a man like him; eyeing him stolidly, the rosette pushed herself to her feet, legs trembling heavily as she tried to regain her balance, never for a moment letting her gaze falter—if that were to happen, then he would most likely gain the upper hand, something that she keenly wished to avert by all costs.

Assembling herself to the best of her ability, without for a moment allowing her concentration to falter for even the briefest of moments, Sakura carefully retreated so that she was at a safe distance from the pallid serpent across from her, before she finally spoke again, her voice tight with strain and restrained anger (it didn't take a trained eye to see that she was almost _trembling_ with rage).

"What proof do you have of this 'miracle' jutsu, Orochimaru? What could you possibly gain from wasting such a profound talent on the likes of me?"

The darkly amused chuckle that exited his thin lips only egged Sakura on, her limbs having to stiffen in the attempt to keep her rooted in place; it was becoming almost excruciating to watch him stand there, smug smirk in place, as he silently mocked her with his secretive amber slits—he was bearing the semblance of a basilisk more and more with every second that passed in which Sakura was forcefully stuck with him and his smothering presence.

She needed to escape, and now, before something dreadful occurred... like her, per se, agreeing to his little 'bargain' with the knowledge that such a feat was physically impossible, and defied the natural order of things; it just could not be done.

It flouted the physics of nature itself. Reviving one that has been rendered no longer living was not only of significant alteration to the genetics of the very earth itself, but it ultimately corrupts the food-chain and therefore breaks the laws of quantum and behavioural interactions; it was literally _impossible_ to do so without corroding the natural balance altogether.

Which Sakura wouldn't put past Orochimaru of all people; he was a form of poison himself, after all, one of the highest of degrees, that could always somehow leave a mark that can never fully be healed or suppressed with other medications—he thrived off of the sheer heartache he could cause through taking away a key link to the survival of a team of surrogate family members.

Tears of utter contempt welled in Sakura's eyes as she vainly attempted to glare at the bastard snake that stood across from her; he lived up to his reputation of one too. Not only was he slimy to the core, but he had ways of manipulating one to his will without even the marionette realising themselves just how much of an influence Orochimaru had over them, how much control he held in the palm of his hand.

And it made Sakura sick to the pits of her stomach knowing this information as a solid fact; why is it that out of all of the people in this very 'country', she was the _only_ one that understood the implications of being held under _his_ sway? Why is it that she could never for a moment even think about turning the others against their 'Leader', without having them all turn on her within an instant of her uttering a foul word of disdain against his very name?

The answer was quite simple.

Orochimaru had spread his 'poison' within their very systems, forcing it through their bloodstreams until they no longer saw right from wrong, appropriate reasoning and judgement; the amber-eyed snake-bastard had physically altered their original thoughts so that they coincided with what he wished of and from them—and whatever demand he made, he received in kind, even at the cost of so many lives. It made Sakura's blood _boil_ and her eyes fog with red as she slowly stepped forward, her limbs unable to take the strain of standing still for such an extensive time any longer.

How dare he? How fucking _dare_ he make such a weak-assed assumption? How fucking _dare_ he think that because he believes that he is _God_, he can manipulate everyone and anyone to his non-existent heart's content without any regard whatsoever for _who_ those people are he is so selfishly using? How fucking dare he presume that she would be as weak-willed as the rest of the stupid fuckers that littered this base?

_No more_.

She would take it no more.

* * *

At first Orochimaru had been amused by her antics, but as she slowly made her way towards him, the amusement—along with his sickening smile—faltered if only a little, before he began to show the faintest signs of distress; she wouldn't fucking _dare_!

* * *

Sakura's emerald orbs had darkened with so much rage and uncurbed bloodlust that when she finally snapped them open to meet his sternly thrilled features, they were almost black pits of steely obsidian, the only thing giving their true colouration away being the viridian ring that thinly outlined the shrunken black pupil; oh she was fucking _mad_ alright.

"You underestimate me, Orochimaru."

Her voice was drastically calm, quiet, almost as if there were to be an impending moment where everything would snap apart, and the true emotions would run like free-flowing blood; _his_ free-flowing blood.

"And for that mistake alone... _you will sorely regret_ _it_."

And with that, it began. Sakura raised her bent arm into the space above her, her fist lined equally with her face, suspending herself in mid-air for the briefest of moments as she charged a lethal amount of chakra into her fist, before she finally came back down again, her chakra-fuelled punch colliding heavily with the slick tiling of the base's ground, ultimately leaving a split-second in which everything came together like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle; but by then, it was already too late for them to react.

The eruption of broken stone upheaved from the ground, tearing from the blackened soil until it was completely separated, the brick smashing into further clusters of smouldering rock and debris as she raised the earth from its very roots; waves of pulsating chakra stretched for miles on end, each powerful reverberation lifting the marble from its traditional placing and stirring it up within the disarray.

Only the stealthiest of shinobi escaped unscathed, or with little damage, whilst the rest were buried within the caving ruins, what had initially remained of the supporting pillars no longer; they crumbled with the force of the earthquake Sakura had managed to summon within her rage, snapping like twigs before breaking apart into further boulders large enough to crush at least three men of distinct size and build.

* * *

Orochimaru still stood in the very same spot, even as the tiling elevated from the ground and flew dangerously close to his face, his long silky black locks thrashing wildly behind his back, occasionally smacking him in the face with such force that the impact left a hazy sting to his otherwise dead complexion; amidst it all, he managed a gluttonous grin, his amber orbs alight with impending doom as he captured the rosette in the peak of her moment—he had her exactly where he wanted her.

Everything was going according to plan...

* * *

He heard it; the distant rumbling of the earth tearing apart. Another earthquake at this time of the year? Normally this fact wouldn't have perturbed him in his quest to tail _that man_, but there was something unusually compelling about it this time; something just didn't seem to be right.

It was proven almost instantly.

One minute he had simply stopped, inclining his tuned ear to where the dull roar had sounded, before he found himself leaning forward on the very balls of his feet, his arms shielding his eyes as a powerful gust of wind surged in his direction, so strong, in fact, that the trees themselves were pushed backwards by the force of it, some even upheaved from the very soil they had sprouted from; although he was not the primary user of the byakugan, his sharingan could still detect the faintest of movements, especially ones that involved the use of a chakra-manipulator.

Running the chakra through his feet, so as to keep him entrenched where he stood, he then closed his eyes, building a fixed amount of the aforementioned behind the very tissues that connected his retina, before allowing them to snap open; he had to squint against the ferocity of the winds in order to make anything out, but once he had zoned in on what he was seeking, he had already taken off, defying gravity as he remained glued to the blackened earth at his feet, at such speeds that he made the ghastly winds look like they were moving in apparent slow motion; it paid off to have the speed of lightning itself to aid you.

* * *

"Huuurrrargh!" Sakura hollered as she snapped forward, dodging the initial blows that Kabuto made before nailing him the gut with a solid, chakra-charged fist, ribs snapping and breaking into shattered pieces as she sent him flying into the crater's wall; nothing remained of Orochimaru's base—she had reduced it to a pile of nothing in the middle of nowhere.

The white-haired crony flew straight into the hardened soil, the dirt giving way almost as soon as he made impact, a large fissure tearing apart in order to accommodate for his entire bulk, before a second explosion engulfed the area, although a much less dire one than the last; that in itself had spread for countless hundreds of miles, the void that remained spreading for more than a thousand kilometres _easily_, perhaps _more_ than that.

Raising each of her shoulders offhandedly, Sakura cracked her neck like it was no problem tearing apart a monster's entire livelihood, before she turned on the sudden swarm of 'insects' that had arrived to entertain her; reinforcements had just made their grand debut. Biting out an agitated growl, Sakura pounced, shifting so that they could no longer determine where she would next appear; it happened so suddenly that the rosette could have sworn that lightning had struck.

And indeed it had.

The sky had blackened significantly, thunder rumbling ominously in the charcoal depths of the no longer visible sky as the first crackle of lightning could be seen; something was coming, something _big_.

But before Sakura could ponder any longer on that strange abnormality, she shifted once again, her temporary distraction leaving her wide open for an attack that she would have never have seen coming had she not been trained better than that; recovering quickly from her 'musings', the pinkette snapped forward with speed unprecedented to the inexperienced shinobi before her, dropping low to the ground before flipping over so that her stomach was raised into the air, her legs following tout suite as she kicked the first two unsuspecting enemies right in the heads, her body craned over backwards so that she could reinforce her strength into it.

_'No matter the numbers; as long as there is __**one**__ fighter with experience to guide them, no army can overcome them. That is a rule of the shinobi code of conduct, number seventy-three; since I have the upper-hand, none of these fools can defeat me!' _

Sakura gritted out in her mind as she flipped and skidded across the ground, propelling herself backwards up into the air in time to narrowly avoid the large shuriken that had been initially aimed for her throat, instead having it cut through the air just beneath her figure; the least she could give them was that they had an insanely good aim, just not good enough to outsmart her.

Grunting in slight surprise when one of the men gathered her into an unsuspecting stranglehold, Sakura simply made a hand-sign, slipping free from his lewd grasp with a simple escape jutsu, kneeling and compressing her weight into her right leg, before she suddenly switched to the opposite in time to deliver a deathblow roundhouse kick to the back of aforementioned ninja's head with her right leg, sending him—and three other unfortunates—to their graves, embedded within the very essence of the fibrous rock that formed the crater she had created with her punishing fist of fury; sliding into the splits with little trouble, Sakura managed to not only trip two of the barricading enemy shinobi, but she also managed to flip another over her back when she raised herself from the dirt, the unsuspecting ninja letting out a hoarse cry as he landed on his ass, in time for Sakura to mercilessly clutch his head between her palms and snap his neck in two—he was rendered a corpse, just as the ones she had tripped were about to.

As they charged at her with angered expressions, the rosette made a slight jump—never faltering or even failing to notice that the pair's eyes were intently drawn to the robust, aching fullness that were her breasts bouncing with the sudden jolting movement—which they had failed to realise the real initiative behind until it was too late. Sakura smirked as the two short katanas made their way to her hands, already bloodied from previous kills as she caught the spiralling blades in her palms, clutching them as if they were her very lifeline as she crouched over slightly, twirling the miniature swords around her fingers before she flicked her wrists forward, stabbing with such meticulousness that when she spun to remove their heads from the bodies, the cuts were completely clean, blood spurting and spraying so that it covered her from head to toe.

After cleaving more limbs from various other bodies, Sakura felt herself not only starting to bore, but to tire also; she had drained so much of her chakra already within the expanse of this battle, and yet she was still standing, moving forward, reaping like a Shinigami ought to rather than a simple kunoichi like herself was. Quite honestly, she had grown sick of the formalities; she wanted to cut straight to the chase.

_'Ushi, Inu, Tatsu, Ne, Hatsuji, Tora, Tatsu! Shinfuzen; fukusuukai hitobashira!' _

Sakura slammed her palms together, drawing and entwining her fingers together in a seal that no one had ever born witness to (Orochimaru paying closer attention to her movements now more than ever), an eerie magenta glow forming around her figure—bearing much semblance to the curse mark effect—as she uttered inaudible chants to the Gods; it was as if she were paying them homage, but of all the people there, Orochimaru knew better than to assume—after all, she _had_ told him not to underestimate her beforehand, so what better way to prove his recognition of her growing abilities than by allowing her her chance to show him up, to show them _all_ what she was capable of.

* * *

Whilst her eyes remained closed, the shinobi of Sound figured that it was the opportune moment to strike; how wrong they were in that impulsive decision.

* * *

After uttering the final prayer, Sakura completely changed her stance, the slow emitting chakra now exploding from her petite figure in massive amounts, raising further earth as she allowed the markings to spread down her body like wildfire, until every inch of her flesh was covered by the very same marks that she had seen her shishou bear so often in combat; she rarely used this jutsu, one that Tsunade herself had so heavily petitioned against using unless in an absolute, guaranteed life or death situation, but it was about time that she rejuvenated her strength anyways.

And seeing as this particular jutsu had no repercussions against her body like it did for her mentor—as Sakura had fully completed something that should originally not have been achievable in the first instance—it allowed her to be versatile in its uses.

"Mitotic Regeneration; 100% activated!"

With that, Sakura disappeared faster than light and sound itself, travelling through the air without even the vaguest of noises being made as she re-entered the atmosphere, using the full extent of one of her forbidden jutsu, one that she had created for herself; she was the only one that could ever successfully wield this and live to tell the tale.

Slicing through the air with her supersonic speed, Sakura brought a fatal charge of over eleven thousand volts of purely charged medical electrons into her open, outstretched palms, before she zapped forwards, her arms slamming into the chests of at least twelve men at a time (which clues you in to just how quickly she was moving against the laws of physics), slicing through the flesh above their left pec and ultimately electrocuting the still beating hearts of the ninja until they were fried to a crisp, blood patterns splattering all over the dried out, barren earth until they pooled around Sakura's feet like a small stream hitting low tide, the eye's sockets of the dead, blackened corpses shedding tears of blood that met with the equally dead soil at their feet.

Distant bells chimed, signalling their tormented end.

* * *

Orochimaru was simply delighted with the sudden turn of events, the loss of both his base and his men only a mediocrity when placed against the value of such a gem; of course, she had _nothing_ on his protégé, but she was still _significantly_ talented, and in ways that neither Orochimaru had dreamed, nor in ways that _he_ would ever be able to insinuate as his own.

Then again, when he was determined enough to learn something, he never gave up on it until he had analysed the techniques every flaw, altered it to suit his tastes, and therefore ultimately making the original technique pale in comparison; Orochimaru couldn't have been more proud of his apprentice...

His sickening smile only further grew as he noted the change in sky density, the velocity of the wind dropping as the moisture and humidity in the air intensified; it seemed that _he_ was almost here, and the setting he had made for himself was _perfect_ for one of his ultimate jutsus.

It appeared that he had long since sensed the threat, but was either preoccupied with his 'mission', or taking his time in arriving back; he had never been one for rushing things, which somewhat pleased the basilisk man more than he could have ever comprehended, in a sadistically sexual sort of way. It simply reminded him of himself back in the days of his youth, where he would take pleasure in drawing it out, prolonging the moment until the climatic peak, before something utterly amazing would happen—in other words, _he_ was preparing for an ending of _epic_ proportions.

And Orochimaru couldn't _wait_ for the finisher.

* * *

Sakura's long, bloodied tresses were flowing behind her, the cool wind a welcome change from the confinement that had been her locking away in Orochimaru's _former _base of operations; although it had been chilly down there, this was entirely different.

This was naturally drifting air, made to please and tickle the senses, bringing them to life with every caress the wind offered; the frostbitten air that cloaked the snake Sannin's underground establishment, however, was chilled not from the fact that it was under the earth's usual surface, where the temperature dropped significantly, but from the very presence of the evil 'man' himself, one whose very poison had infected even the oxygen that they breathed, and the temperature that they lived in (isn't it somewhat ironic that snakes hate the cold, yet Orochimaru thrives off of it?). He was the cause of such unmitigated wintry cold.

The markings of the Mitotic Regeneration were yet to fade from her figure, the chakra working its way through her system so that the splitting of the cell-division hastened, thus quickening the rate of her healing, as well as supplying her with a new reserve of chakra, easing her muscles into a state of tranquillity as she fought off the urge to drift into perpetual slumber; it was getting harder to distinguish blood from soil anymore...

The sudden rise in humidity was what snapped Sakura out of her stupor, the sweat that had once been mildly pricking and trickling down her moist flesh now pouring down her every limb, causing her clothes to cling to her every vivacious curve and angle, her hair matted to her forehead and plastered to the back of her neck; even her _nipples_ could be seen through the stretched material of her bra and top!

What the fuck was going on with this sudden heatwave?

Almost as if in answer to her rhetorical question, lightning sliced through the darkened sky, lighting up the plains in an almost ominous fashion as the thunder crackled dangerously in the backdrop; since when was it the time of year when the _rains_ were due, let alone _thunderstorms_?

Just as her chakra flared ever so slightly, another figure, that had definitely _not_ been standing next to Orochimaru whilst she had been glaring up at him (it was almost as if they had been in that position all along) just then, appeared on the ledge of the crater she had so proudly created, too far away for her to distinguish.

That is, of course, until he raised his arm above his head, triggering an onslaught of memories along with the movement.

* * *

_Flashback_

_

* * *

_

"_I spared your life on a whim... and now I shall take it on a whim." _

_Katana raised high. _

_Striking with such speed incomprehensible. _

_Sai blocking the attack, managing to somewhat vaguely impress the 'attacker'. _

_Blurred movements. _

_Suddenly not near anymore. _

_On the ledge of a large crevice, crater. _

_Raises his arm up to the sky above. _

_**Is stopped by Orochimaru**__. _

_"They aren't worth the effort—"_

* * *

_End of Flashback_

_

* * *

_

"S-Sasuke-kun...?"

* * *

"_They aren't worth the effort, __**Sasuke-kun**__. Ehmhmhmhm!" _

* * *

"KIRIN!"

* * *

**a/n: Ugh, not my brightest idea to be up until 2:56am writing, but being the insomniac that I am... :/ **

**Still, being caught is not ideal, not ideal at all... and I took 'Ideology' class. **

**LOL, Death Note Abridged FTMFW! XD  
**

**Sorry for the lateness, but I stayed up extra late to finish this for ya, so please review, aright guys? **

**Sankyuu! **

**Until next time then! **

**Ja ne! x) **

***-Sasukeluva 4eva out-***

* * *

_Definition:_

_1) Shinfuzen; fukusuukai hitobashira= Heart Failure; Multiple Sacrifices_


End file.
